Too Good At Goodbyes
by purplepagoda
Summary: When Olivia confides in Fin that she is considering retirement how will he react? Will the guilt behind the truth eat the Captain alive? Will she finally let someone behind the wall? In a world where everything seems temporary a loyal friend is a rare find.
1. Chapter 1

Olivia stands in her doorway, with her glasses at the end of her nose. Her dark hair is haphazardly secured in a clip. She brushes a few rogue strands out of her face, and secures them behind her ear. In the bullpen the scurries about their business. The acrid smell of burnt coffee wafts through the room, mixing with a healthy serving of perspiration, and stale take out. The squad plays the song of their people as their fingers diligently dance on their keyboards. A wheeled office chair scoots away from a desk, with a single squeaky wheel.

The Captain exhales, and her eyes fall upon the occupant of the absurdly outdated chair. She clears her throat.

"Fin, can I see you?"

He turns to acknowledge her with a nonchalant head nod. Olivia retreats into her office, as the sensible heel of her shoe practically hovers over the tile floor. She carefully plants herself in the chair behind her absurdly large desk. She feels secure behind her desk, wearing her securely buttoned blazer. Fin enters the office, and immediately begins using his detective skills to dissect the room, as if it is a crime scene. Without a word he closes the door. He hovers behind the chair across the desk from his captain. She shoots him a look, just barely making eye contact. He guardedly takes a seat.

"We just wrapped up a case, which tells me that you are about to drop some other kind of bomb on me," he chooses to begin the conversation, realizing that she is grappling with an intro.

"I wish that you didn't know me so well," she admits, as her guard lowers at least a millimeter.

"How long have we worked together?" He cocks an eye brow, half a grin.

Her level of respect for him disallows her from beating around the bush. "Fin I've been considering putting my papers in."

Her words hit him like a lead pipe to the gut. His years of detective work remind him to check his emotions. He plasters on his most convincing stoic façade as he faces her. He focuses on his breathing while he considers his next move. Immediately his mind shifts to a sit-rep.

Fin pauses to read her, before offering a single response. Behind her stylish frames is a pair of dark circles. The lines on her face remind him that neither one of them are as young as they used to be. For once he has a hard time evaluating where she might be coming from. It is clear she is feeling conflicted. She squirms in her chair. They both know he could use his smooth artful style of interrogation that he saves for special occasions, against her.

Olivia suddenly begins feeling irrationally exposed. As surely as she is sitting in her office, she is certain that he is trying to examine, and analyze every one of her non-verbals, and micro-expressions. She prays that he doesn't pick up on how puffy, and red her eyes are. He will certainly grill her if he suspects that she has been crying. Her pulse quickens as the sinking feeling grows. Her palms start to feel sweaty. As his well calculated pause drags on, she begins to question her decision. Suddenly she feels nauseated at the thought that she has already said too much.

"Liv, I respect that."

Olivia furrows her brow, not sure what her next move is. He hasn't given her the response she has anticipated.

"That's it?" Her voice cracks.

"Liv, I respect you. If all you volunteer is that you are considering putting your papers in, I am not going to question it. You have given years of your life to this job, which you are never going to get back. We have seen things on this job that would ruin a lot of people. We have experienced things that make us question humanity. Every day you sit there, and you still have a passion for it. I can see that you're tired though. It gets to all of us, and I won't fault you for wanting to hang it up. I've considered it myself, and I don't have a kid at home."

"I thought that you might try to change my mind," she confesses, as she allows another brick to crumble from the wall she has surrounded herself with.

"Is that what you were hoping for?"

"No," she replies, as she purses her lips.

"Sometimes in life we need an ally more than we need an adversary," he reminds her.

"Fin, I don't tell you enough how much your loyalty means to me."

"I appreciate that. I am just glad I'm not finding out when the cake rolls around."

She smiles, while simultaneously rolling her eyes, "Give me a little credit."

"I am not fully recovered from my wise cracking days."

"Will you keep this close to your vest? I haven't made my final decision yet."

"I'll take it to my grave, if you need me to. This isn't where you implore me to take your place, is it?"

"Is that what you think?"

"Heavy is the head that wears the crown, Liv. I have no interest in being the ruler of this kingdom. You know that."

"Will you stay?"

He shrugs, "I don't see any other OG's around here to show the young bucks the ropes. Everyone else has moved on."

Her glance shifts, "Do you ever feel like you missed your window?"

He doesn't miss a beat, "To have a normal life?"

She falls silent.

"This is all I know. Honestly, I thought that I would die in the line of duty long before I had to worry about retirement. Now I worry that I'll hang it up, and still die by growing to intimately acquainted with a firearm."

"Do I need to worry about you?"

"I'm the last person on the planet that you have to worry about. I am just talking about statistics."

"You should get back out there before the others notice."

"Do you have any old cold cases lying around in your drawer? We could just pretend that was why you called me in here."

She pulls open her desk drawer and motions to them. "Take your pick."

He joins her behind the desk. He pulls a thin file out of the middle of the pile.

"Liv?"

"Hm?"

"When you're ready to tell me why you're ready to hang it up, just know that I'm all ears. I've got your back."

"Thanks, Fin."

He glances at the sticker on the file.

"Two thousand and ten? I seem to recall that was a busy year for us."

* * *

By the time she arrives home her son is already sound asleep. She relieves the babysitter, and heads into the kitchen. She warms up left overs in the microwave, and climbs onto the counter. The food barely registers on her taste buds as she obsessively continues her existential crisis. She chides herself for the amount of time she has spent doubting herself. She wonders when she will be ready to tell her friend, and colleague the truth.

The phone lying on the counter next to her vibrates. Her eyes shift to the screen. _I've got your back, _the text message reiterates. She knows that the sentiment is genuine, but it only makes her feel more guilt about withholding the truth from him.


	2. Chapter 2

Olivia is lying in her bed, secure under a pile of blankets. For once in a blue moon her apartment seems eerily quiet. Her tendency for overthinking kicks into overdrive. It's late, and she should be asleep. She certainly feels tired enough to cling to a good slumber, despite the fact that it is still a reasonable hour. She contemplates tossing and turning for the next several hours, out of a matter of principal. She knows that for her guilt to plateau she is going to have to confess. She reaches for the phone that lies uncharacteristically silent on her bedside stand.

He's sitting at home, alone staring at a glass of bourbon when the phone jars him back into reality. Based on the caller ID, he assumes he is being called out. He immediately presses the phone to his ear.

"What have we got?" He questions out of instinct.

"I know that it's late…" she begins.

"Liv, what's up?"

"If you are busy I understand."

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm not busy. Is everything okay?"

"You and I both know that I would not be able to make a career as a criminal."

"Your guilty conscience is eating at you?"

"It's not as if I have murdered someone," she clarifies.

"It wouldn't matter. You know I would help you hide the body if you did," Fin points out.

"Can you come over?"

"Are you dying?!"

"What?! No. Why would you ask that?"

"Because after our conversation today all I could think about was cancer, and suicide. I usually don't let this stuff bother me, but it's you we're talking about."

"Fin, I'm not dying."

"I'll be over shortly," he disconnects.

* * *

Olivia is sitting in her pajamas on her couch sipping a cup of chamomile tea. She hears his knuckles on her door. She practically floats across the room, and unlatches the door without a single glance out the peephole. There is no need, as she would recognize his footsteps in her sleep. Her hair is pulled into a haphazard bun, as she pulls open the door. He takes a seat on the chair adjacent to her couch.

She settles back onto the couch, in her loose fitting satin pajamas. She takes a sip of tea, and begins using her detective skills against him. From several feet away she can see his neck pulsating. He has never been the type to be easily rattled. She has always appreciated his ability to keep his cool in nearly every situation. He sits on the edge of the chair he has chosen to park himself in. Suddenly it seems difficult to form an intelligent thought.

"You aren't going to draw this out to be some dramatic reveal, are you?" He offers an excited utterance.

"I certainly hadn't planned it that way."

"What the hell is going on? Why all of a sudden are you considering retiring? Is this because of Ed?"

"No. I am fairly certain that my existential crisis started when I was a toddler. I am just now, as a middle age human being beginning to find some sense of control in my life."

He rolls his eyes, "Liv, don't you jump down some damn rabbit hole. Why are you currently considering retiring?"

To respond she offers a question that is seemingly unrelated. "Do you remember a selfless act that you made about ten years ago?"

He shrugs, "Nothing really sticks out to me."

"I got a call from a cryobank a while back."

He chuckles, "You are jogging my memory. What about it?"

"It totally caught me off guard. I hadn't thought about it in such a long time. It took me to a different time in my life. I suddenly found myself playing the 'what if' game. I became sort of fixated on the question of whether my life is how I want it to be."

"I'm not really sure that I see the connection to you wanting to retire," Fin admits.

"I have given this job more nights, weekends, and holidays than I can even count. My son it growing up, and sometimes I feel like I am missing all of it. For what? Why am I not spending every waking second with him?"

"As a loving father, of a wonderful son, I can confidently say, because you would likely kill him if you did."

"It just really challenged me to reconsider some things."

"Once again, it seems like I am Hiroshima over here minding my business, only moments away from atomic bomb."

"Fin, that is a little dramatic."

"I am just telling you how I feel. Please continue."

"So I just decided to do it."

He furrows his brow, "You've lost me. Do what? You put your papers in?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"I don't follow."

"So I've just been living with all of this guilt, because I haven't told you. It's not as if you wouldn't figure it out. I just…" she rambles.

He waves, "Whoa! Slow down. What did you do?"

* * *

_Several Months Earlier:_

_ She's sitting at her desk listening to a medical professional drone on, and on. She is in the midst of a huge, complicated case, and she finds herself selectively listening._

"_Basically I just need you to put another payment method on file if you want to continue to maintain the current cryopreservation status that you have. If you do not want to update a payment method you have to come in, and fill out some paperwork."_

"_What kind of paperwork?"_

"_You can choose to use them, have them destroyed, or donate them to science, or someone else."_

* * *

His eyes widen, and he leans back in his seat as she recounts the exchange. She does her best to control her breathing.

"Why would you feel guilty? I made it clear then that it was your decision to do as you saw fit. You didn't have to clear it with me."

"That was ten years ago."

"I am completely confused. You could have told me this on the phone. Donated, destroyed, it doesn't make a difference to me. Why would you feel guilty about that? You were paying for those storage fees."

Her glance shifts. She stares at the coffee table. She refuses to meet his glance. A lump forms in her throat, and suddenly her mouth feels very dry. The nauseated feeling creeps back up on her. She swallows hard, and focuses on the task at hand.

"I didn't donate, or destroy them," she divulges.

"Okay. I get it, you weren't ready to make a decision. It's your money."

"It was a boatload of money."

"How pricey can it be to store something in a tiny container, in a glorified fridge?"


	3. Chapter 3

"I wouldn't know what the current cost is."

"Whoa! Hold up! Are you telling me that you want to retire, because you put a bun in your oven?!"

"The odd of successful implantation were incredibly low."

"Are you pregnant? This is hands down the strangest conversation we have ever had, and we work at SVU. You just had a birthday. You are…"

She cuts him off, "I am very well aware of my age. It is quite apparent to me every single time I walk into the OB/GYN's office. They look at me as if I am a fossil that will surely crack before I make it out of there."

Fin falls eerily silent. Once again he finds himself relying on his super sleuth skills. He racks he brain about the recent past. He conjures up a few sick days, and a couple instances where she looked green around the gills at a crime scene. He tries to focus on his breathing, but all he can focus on is her. His Captain, his colleague, his friend who is sitting on her couch in her navy blue satin pajamas waiting for his response. Her chest rises, and falls, and for the first time he finds himself unapologetically staring at her abdominal area.

"Let me get this straight," Fin attempts to sort his thoughts out, "you are considering retiring, because despite significantly abysmal odds you have managed to find yourself in the family way, at your age?"

"Yes."

He doesn't miss a beat, "You look terrified. I have seen you with less fear in your eyes while staring down a barrel of a gun."

"That is an accurate assessment."

"Who else knows?"

"Aside from the staff at the OB/GYN's office?"

Fin nods, "They don't really count."

"I haven't told anyone. It took me months to be able to admit it to myself. Even after I had photographic evidence I was in a state of disbelief."

"How far along are you?"

"Does it matter?" Her tone shifts an entire octave.

"The last time I checked, I am one of your longest standing friends. Who else are you going to confide in? Eighteen years, Liv, and I haven't turned my back on you yet."

"Eighteen weeks."

"I understand why you didn't tell me sooner. I can empathize with the fear of worrying that something catastrophic might happen. You should have told me. I hate that you have been struggling with this by yourself this whole time."

"I always choose to do life changing things on my own," she points out as he hand rests on her knee.

Fin places his hand on the back of hers. "But you don't have to. You have never had to. There is no rhyme or reason for you to go it alone. You have support in your life."

"I know."

"Do you feel better now that you told me?"

"Marginally," she replies.

"So do you want to talk about the elephant in the room, are or we going to live in a state of denial?"

"Go ahead."

"You decided to undergo IVF, and by some miracle you find yourself pregnant. You're worried that because the discussion took place such a long time ago that I might feel differently? Now that we are both ten years older circumstances are different."

"I am worried that we entered into a verbal contract, and suddenly, ten years later, I find myself incubating a human being, while experiencing a whole host of different hormonal cascades, and having very different worries, and feelings that I did ten years ago."

"Just lay it on me. Hit me with your best shot."

"What if I die in childbirth?"

"You have a durable health care power of attorney, and a living will," he offers reason, and logical thought to her argument.

"What if because of my age the baby is born prematurely, or…" she chokes up.

"We will cross that bridge when we come to it."

"What if, despite entering into this decision largely on my own, I suddenly feel as if this baby deserves two parents?" She drops the bomb on him.

"Okay. Honestly, I didn't see that one coming. I don't want to answer that too hastily. It's obvious that you haven't been sleeping much, and you are in a pretty precarious state right now. Can I suggest that we table this discussion until we have both had some time to rest, and reflect?"

"That seems totally reasonable," she rises from her seat to walk him out. She finds herself slightly concerned that her heart is going to beat out of her chest.

When she reaches him he envelopes her in a hug. As a pair of familiar arms are snaked around her she finds that her heart-rate begins to slow. While he offers her his reassurance he notices black, and white images lying on the kitchen counter. He lets loose of her. Olivia stands inches from him, staring back at him with a pair of exhausted looking brown eyes. He points to the pictures behind her.

"Can I see those before I go?"

Seconds later he finds himself thumbing through sonogram pictures. His mind navigates several twists, and turns as he sifts through each image. He stops at the last image, as if he is frozen. He reads, and re-reads the text on the black and white evidence. Fins' hazel eyes search the pair of brown eyes standing before him.

"You don't have to say anything," she reminds him.

"I just have so much running through my mind right now," Fin candidly admits.

"You are right we should both get some sleep."

* * *

In the morning he rises from him slumber in his quiet, empty apartment. On his way to the kitchen he walks past photos of his son, son-in law, and grandson. He passes up a picture of his squad. The pot of coffee waits on him, at the perfect temperature, and perfect time. He has become such a creature of habit that his coffee is ready when he wakes up.

He has been up most of the night thinking about the things that she has said. Is he where he wants to be in his life, or is he ready for something different, something more? She has been a good friend, hence why he offered her his seed in the first place. She has far exceeded his expectations as a mother. She's as close to a superhero as he has ever met. His mind wanders to a baby… who deserves two parents. Her words echo in his ears.

"Damnit, Liv!" He growls as his cup of coffee sits on his kitchen counter untouched.


	4. Chapter 4

As Fin sits at his desk with a pile of DD-5's to type up he finds his mind wandering. He stares blankly at his computer screen. He sits silently as he watches his Captain transition from the conference to her office. He feels like a damn fool for not noticing sooner. He wanders how many times she has walked past him, and he has been too busy to notice her condition. Now that he is in the know, it is the only thing that he can focus on.

Once Olivia reaches the safety of her office she double checks her wardrobe. She glances down at the flowing hunter green blouse, and a simple black cardigan. After a few deep breaths she shifts her glance to the stack of paperwork on her desk. She retrieves her glasses from her drawer, and begins working through the pile. Olivia puts her best effort into keeping her personal, and professional life separate. The sensation of butterflies in her stomach reminds her that she is not alone.

In the squad room Carisi hovers over Amanda's desk. He pretends to be consulting his file folder as he watches the room. Amanda taps his ankle with her foot. He furrows his brow, and shifts his glance towards her.

"That seemed unnecessary."

"You are supposed to be giving me an update. Instead, you're over there gawking at who knows what."

"What's going on with the Captain?" He furrows his brow.

Amanda shrugs, "We are consistently overworked, and underpaid. Multiply that by twenty years, and I think that you have the answer."

"Did you see the look that she gave Fin, when she headed to her office?"

"Unlike you, I was actually focused on my job."

"I'm telling you, something is up with her."

"So?! It's none of our business."

"And," Carisi continues, unfettered, "Fin knows what it is. I can tell by the look she gave him."

"I think that is just the look that you give someone when you work with them for eighteen years. You know, a look of commiseration."

"'Manda, come on. You know better than that. You are a detective. Detect. Something is fishy."

"What is fishy is that you are standing there, and still haven't given me any indication what is being offered by the DA."

"I will tell you, but only because I am obligated to."

Amanda scoots slightly away from her desk. She groans, "Here we go. I don't want to hop down the rabbit hole with you."

"Will you just keep an eye on it?"

"Have you ever seen her in a situation that she can't handle?"

"Not my point. I'm concerned about her."

Later that evening Olivia is sitting on the edge of Noah's bed as she reads him a bedtime story. She looks over at him, and finds him paying little attention to the story. She marks the page in the book, and places it on his bedside stand.

"What's on your mind, little man?"

"I'm just worried, I guess."

"Oh, yeah? What are you worrying about?"

"You."

She furrows her brow, and pulls the glasses off her face. She places her hands on either side of her young son's face.

"I assure you that you don't have to worry about me."

"Mommy are you sick?"

"What would make you think that?"

He looks away, as if he is guilty of something.

"We can talk about whatever has you thinking that."

He stares up at her with his bright blue eyes, "I know it isn't kind to eavesdrop. I heard you in the bathroom the other morning. I needed to pee. I didn't mean to overhear. It sounded like you were getting sick in there. Are you okay?"

"Noah, I'm fine. Are you worried that something is going to happen to me?"

"Maybe," he shrugs, "Ryan's mom was sick, and she died."

"I know. That was really sad. Noah, I assure you that I'm not going anywhere. Ryan's mom had cancer. I don't have cancer."

"It sounded like you were sick again after my bath."

She takes a deep breath, "You know, Noah, I really appreciated how concerned you are about me."

"That isn't an answer," he responds, "Are you sure that you're not sick?"

"I have been feeling a little sick lately, but it isn't anything to be worried about."

"I'm going to need more than that."

"I guess I didn't anticipate that we would be having this discussion so soon. I am a little unprepared."

"Just wing it," Noah suggests.

"Noah, I have been getting sick lately, but not because there is anything wrong with me. In fact, the reason behind why I have been getting sick is actually something pretty exciting."

"We are getting a puppy? That's what I have been hoping for."

"No. We're getting a baby," she reveals.

"Who?" His face puckers.

"You, and I. We are going to be getting a baby."

"Here?"

"Yes."

He furrows his brow, "From where?"

Olivia smiles at him. She gently takes his hand, and places it on her abdomen. "Right here."

"You are telling me that there is a baby in there?"

"Yes," she confirms.

"That seems cool, but I'll pass."

She finds herself laughing hysterically, "You can't pass. That isn't an option."

"My friend, Savannah, her mom had a baby, and she said that all it did was cry. That would be a no thank you from me."

"Son, I really appreciate your concern…"

Noah cuts her off, "It's too late to return to sender?"

"Return to sender? Where did you come up with that?"

"We just had a field trip to the post office," he reminds her.

She nods, "Of course. Yes, Noah. It is too late to return to sender."

"Is it too late to request a sister?"

"I don't get to decide if the baby is a boy, or a girl. Why are you requesting a sister?"

"I'm your boy. You don't need another one."

"Are you feeling a little jealous?"

"I'm sorry, mommy, I know that isn't kind."

"Are you upset with me?" Olivia queries.

He seems fairly content as his hand rests on her abdomen. He smiles, "No."


	5. Chapter 5

"Mom? What does _my_ baby look like?"

"Your baby?" Olivia cocks an eyebrow.

"Isn't my job as a big brother to watch out for the baby?"

"Yes."

"What does it look like in there?"

"I have pictures. Do you want to see them?"

"You should have started with that," he scolds her, "I don't know what a baby looks like in there. I just keep thinking about the lizard that I saw at the zoo."

"A lizard?! It doesn't look like a lizard. What would make you think that?"

He shrugs, "I don't know."

She exits the room the retrieve the photographic evidence of the unborn baby she is currently incubating in her uterus. She returns to Noah's room, and hands him the stack of pictures.

"How disappointing. It just looks like a baby. Can I tell my friends I'm getting a lizard? None of them have lizards."

"How about we keep this our secret, for now?"

"Why? You said that it isn't good to keep secrets."

"I'm just not ready to share this with everyone yet."

"Because we don't have a dad in our family?"

"Man, you are relentless! You might be destined to become a detective."

"Is that why?"

"Sure, we can go with that."

"Mom?"

"Hm?"

"Two things. First of all this says it's a girl. I think we both know that I can read."

"Nothing gets by you. It is a girl."

"Secondly, how do you make a baby with no dad? I was adopted, this is different."

Olivia glances at her watch, "Oh, man. That is all of the time we have for questions. It's your bedtime, Noah."

"We both know that was a text message. You aren't even looking at the time."

She kisses him, "Goodnight, son." She reaches down to turn off his light.

"Can I have one of those? I'll keep it right here in my drawer."

She hands him one of the black and white sonogram photos.

"Love you," she reminds him as she heads out the door.

"Love you more."

* * *

Olivia stands in the break room absentmindedly stirring her cup of ginger tea. Her train of thought is interrupted by footsteps heading her direction.

"Are you feeling alright?" Amanda practically sucker punches her with the question.

"Just tired," Olivia insists.

"Just tired? You've been saying that a lot lately."

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

"Liv, even if you're not I would still have your back."

"I have a meeting I've got to get to," Olivia excuses herself.

She leaves the squad room, and heads off to an appointment. It's been some time since the conversation that she has had with Fin. He has been as silent as a body at the bottom of the Hudson. Despite the fact that she has always known him to be loyal to a flaw the situation is a lot to ask of anyone. Her intrusive thought process is interrupted by an overwhelming wave of nausea. She wretches into a trash can before she makes it to the car. She pulls the travel sized bottle of scope out of her pocket. After a quick swish she continues on her business as usual.

As Olivia climbs into the car she gets the distinct sense that she isn't alone. She rolls her eyes at the absurdity as she pulls out of her parking spot. She does all important things alone, she reminds herself. Less than a minute after she has left her parking space she is stuck in a line of traffic at a red light.

"I could have already killed you," a familiar voice tells her.

"Unlikely. I knew it was you. I could hear you breathing. Fin, why the hell are you laying in the backseat?"

"Last time I checked you haven't mentioned your condition to anyone other than myself. I was trying to be discreet."

"There are other ways to have discreet conversations," she reminds him, "I've heard that the phone tends to be a somewhat reliable method of communication these days."

"I am responding in person to the message that I received."

"Fin, you are going to have to be more specific than that. I generally send you a dozen messages a day. Sometimes I send group messages."

"How many messages do you send to me about important appointments?"

"You are in no way obligated to join me. You don't have to accompany me to this appointment. Fin you…"

He cuts her off, "This is why you do everything alone. Have you ever considered that? You are so afraid of getting hurt that you never let anyone in. I have been your colleague, and friend for eighteen years. What the hell am I going to do? Haven't I proven myself to you, yet? Let me be supportive of you. I mean damn, Liv!"

"What does supportive of me look like from your perspective?"

"I know that you are an independent human being. There is very little that you cannot do on your own. I also know, as someone who, at times has suffered from a similar condition, know that sometimes you don't want to do absolutely everything on your own. I will show up, and if at any point you want me to stop showing up I'll stop. Does that sound like a deal? I mean you wouldn't have asked me if I wanted to come to this appointment with you, if part of you wasn't hoping that I might."

"That seems relatively fair," she agrees.

"My spidey-senses are telling me that you are particularly nervous about this appointment."

"I am no spring chicken, Fin. Every OB/GYN appointment makes me nervous."

"Anything special about this one?"

"Nothing other than them trying to convince me once again to undergo genetic testing."

"Can I ask what your opposition to genetic testing is?"

"Are you familiar with the process?"

"I have read up on it. I certainly wouldn't want someone jabbing a needle in to my abdomen. It doesn't sound particularly appealing to me, and I'm not incubating a small human. I of course, support whatever decision that you make."


	6. Chapter 6

As Olivia sits in the exam room, anxiously waiting for a second she feels a sense of relief that she isn't alone. She stares at the artwork on the wall in front of her. Fin shakes a container of mints to attract her attention. She looks over at him, as he sits next to her in a hard plastic chair.

"I saw you barf in that trashcan, by the way."

She remains silent as she accepts the mint he offers her.

"Is the reason that you don't want to undergo the amniocentesis that your worried someone is going to tell you that something is wrong?"

"I just feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."

Several minutes later they are joined in the exam room.

"Nice to see you again, Miss Benson. I see that you have brought some reinforcements this time."

"This is…" Olivia freezes.

"I'm her partner, Fin," he waves.

"I'm Dr. Greene."

"Nice to meet you," he flashes her one of his hundred watt smiles.

"Let's take a look, shall we?"

Olivia nods in agreement. It only takes a few seconds to find an appropriate angle.

"There is your baby. It looks like she is waving at you today. Let's get a good listen to her heartbeat." She listens carefully as the sound of the heartbeat fills the room. She scrutinizes the screen very closely.

Fin says nothing, despite the fact that his detective skills read her micro-expressions, and pick up on something being off. He quickly glues his eyes to the screen to examine what it is that she might be seeing.

"As you know today is the anatomy scan. We are going to get a lot of frames. If I pause please don't be alarmed. I am simply examining everything as I go to ensure that every appropriate part is present and accounted for. I will be moving the probe a good bit to make sure that I get all of the images I need. The nurse mentioned that you are still having a significant amount of morning sickness," Dr. Greene tries to keep the conversation going.

Fin locks eyes with the OB/GYN when he finally sees what she is looking at.

"Every day, all day," she confirms.

"I am going to move to another angle. To get a better look," Dr. Greene informs them.

Olivia finds herself frantically trying to read the room. Her heart begins to race as she feels the tension in the room.

"Can you please just tell me what is going on? I can see the two of you looking at each other. Have I missed something? Is there a tail, or something? I mean my son suggested that it was a lizard."

"Can you tell me about your IVF procedure?" Dr. Greene tries to shift the line of questioning.

Olivia furrows her brow, "You were there."

"Yes. I see dozens of clients every single week. Can you jog my memory?"

"There isn't much to tell. You were skeptical that there would be any success. You gave me absolutely abysmal statistics on the odds of success."

Dr. Greene angles the screen so that Olivia has a clearer picture. "You are right, I did. Fortunately for us, I was completely wrong. Not only was your implantation a success, I would call it a double success."

She furrows her brow, "What are you talking about?"

Dr. Greene points to the screen, "Do you see right there how it looks like your baby has a third foot? It is a third foot, but it does not belong to that baby."

"Excuse me?!"

Dr. Greene shifts the probe to offer a clearer picture. Suddenly she can see two sets of legs on the screen.

"Sometimes I am so wrong, that we defy the odds, and in fact we double down. What I am saying is that you are expecting twins."

"That's not possible," Olivia argues, "This is not my first ultrasound."

"On rare occasions twins can hide out until the twenty week scan."

"This is a joke, right?"

"Nope, I assure you that it is not. You are carrying two healthy looking babies. I am guessing that is the reason behind morning sickness that has followed you well into your second trimester."

"Quite frankly, I think I would have preferred you telling me I was having a lizard."

* * *

She wakes up in cold sweat. She glances at the alarm clock. _308 _taunts her in bright red numerals. A mental note is made to obtain a more modern, less intrusive alarm clock. She flips on the light, and sits up in her bed. She takes a sip from her bottled water. She glances at sonogram pictures on her bedside stand.

"Twins? No, that was just a dream," she assures herself as she retrieves the top image. She stares at two pairs of lower legs, and four tiny little feet. Her name is printed on the top of the image. She flips it over, and finds Fin's handwriting. _2 for 1_, is written in his scrawl on the back of the image.

Amanda is sitting at her desk alternating between stirring her coffee, and watching the clock on the wall as she waits for the Captain to arrive to confront her. A doughnut suddenly appears in front of her on her desk. She looks up, and finds her former partner standing next to her desk.

"Whatcha thinking about?" He queries.

"Carisi you were right," Amanda responds.

"Say it a little louder so other people can hear it. I want them to mark this day down on the calendar. Finally, you admitting that I am right."

"You're going to think that I'm crazy."

"I am actually fairly certain of it. Go on. I look forward to whatever theory you are about to drop on me," he nudges.

"I think the Captain is pregnant."

He nearly spits his coffee out. "That is the funniest conspiracy I have heard all week. That wasn't what I was suggesting. That is nowhere near what I was thinking."

"What exactly were you thinking?"

"Something along the lines of her planning to retire," Sonny suggests.

"Yesterday she was drinking ginger tea. When was the last time anyone saw her drink? Huh? It seems as if her wardrobe has been baggier lately, as if she has something to hide."

"That is the most circumstantial case I have ever heard."

"You started this," Amanda growls.

"You aren't making a very good case here."

"She left yesterday for some meeting, and never came back."

"At what time?"

"Three o'clock. Have you ever known her to leave at three o'clock in the afternoon?"

"Maybe it went late, and she just didn't feel like coming back. She is the boss, it is her prerogative."


	7. Chapter 7

"Why are you watching the clock?" Sonny inquires.

"I haven't seen her yet this morning," Amanda reveals.

"That doesn't mean anything. Maybe she has a virus, or something? It is possible she is in a meeting. I mean cut her some slack," he suggests.

"Carisi, I am telling you. When I asked her yesterday if everything was okay you would have thought that I sucker punched her."

"I wish I hadn't said anything. You are spinning this into some huge thing. It's probably nothing."

"I bet you twenty bucks."

"I'll prove to you that you're wrong."

"How?"

He shrugs, "I'm not sure yet," as his fingers tap on the surface of Amanda's desk.

The sound of footsteps makes them panic. Amanda hands Carisi an open file folder to suggest that they are having a work related conversation. Carisi makes eye contact with the Captain.

"Hey Captain can I ask you a personal question?"

She stops in her tracks, "Sure, Carisi, what's up?"

"Please don't punch me for asking this. I know that it is really rude to ask, quite frankly," he begins to feels as if he is losing his courage to ask.

"Go ahead." Olivia stamps her foot impatiently.

"So I…" he stammers.

"Just spit it out," Benson insists.

"Are you pregnant?

She purses her lips. She subtly nods her head, and exhales. "Yup," she responds as she makes a beeline for her office.

From behind her office door the panic begins to set in. She hangs her jacket on the hook, and removes her sunglasses. Her heart races as she sinks into her seat.

"Shit!" Olivia mutters to herself.

In the squad room Amanda's eyes look as if they are going to pop out of her head. Carisi offers her a crisp twenty dollar bill from his wallet. For a moment they both blankly stare at the Captain's closed office door. Eventually the shock begins to dissipate at least a bit.

"What the hell just happened?" Carisi locks eyes with his former partner.

"I have no clue. You apparently just decided that the question was worth getting your ass kicked. You know that she is going to kick your ass for this later, right?"

"It's your fault. You are the one that brought it up," Carisi lays blame.

"I'm not the one who chose to ask her something incredibly personal in the middle of the squad room, where literally anyone could hear."

"Did you hear what she said?!"

"Yup, and then she just kept walking. I mean I know that she can keep her cool in tough situations, but that one takes the cake. She was so nonchalant. It was like you asked her if she was wearing shoes this morning."

Carisi glances at his watch, "I've got to go. Maybe she was just pulling an elaborate prank on us. If so, I want my money back."

Olivia is contemplating fleeing to Canada, or possibly Brazil, from the comfort of her office chair when she hears knuckles wrapping on her door. Without even looking up, she knows who is at the door.

"Rollins, come in."

The door closes as swiftly as it opens. Amanda stands before her Captain. She folds her arms across her chest, and considers where to begin.

"You really shouldn't pull that kind of prank on Carisi. He can't handle it."

"Have a seat," Benson advises as she gesticulates.

Amanda reluctantly takes a seat. "You don't owe me any kind of explanation. It wasn't anyone's place to ask you something like that. I'm sure…"

Olivia cuts her off, "Rollins, it wasn't a prank. Honestly, I am surprised that someone hasn't asked sooner. Working in a squad full of detectives, I figured that someone would have said something by now."

"Oh. I don't really know what to say," Rollins finds herself blindsided.

"We can start with the fact that I am a fossil," Olivia recommends.

"I wasn't going to mention that."

"The truth is that about ten years ago I decided that I was ready to be a mom. I went through the process of egg retrieval, and choosing a donor. Life got in the way, and I didn't go that route at that time. Noah came along, and I didn't think much about it again. Several months ago I got a call from the cryobank."

"Is there a shelf life on such a thing?"

"There certainly is a recommended shelf life."

"I see."

"So I decided that since the odds were pretty slim I might as well shoot for the moon. I have never been opposed to having a second child. Noah has been in a pretty good place lately. I am certainly not getting any younger."

"So it worked?"

"Far better than anyone could have possibly anticipated."

"How does it work better than anticipated? You either get pregnant, or you don't, right?"

"That is generally true."

"I don't understand," Amanda admits.

"I just recently learned that apparently I am having twins."

"Oh! Congratulations? You don't seem excited."

"Mostly I'm just terrified right now."

"Your secret is safe with me. I won't tell anyone."

"At this point I'm not really sure how it is a secret at all. I am consistently barf-y. I feel as if I haven't slept in a year."

Amanda furrows her brow, "How far along are you?"

"Twenty weeks."

"What?! I was the size of a house both times. How is that possible?"

"I would assume it is the constant barfing. They don't seem particularly concerned."

"Liv, this is a lot. Are you sure that you're prepared for all of this?"

Silence fills the room. Amanda watches as her typically stoic Captain breaks eye contact, and finds it difficult to formulate an intelligible sentence. Olivia casts aside the glasses she has been using to sift through a mountain of paperwork. Her hands fall into her lap. For a millisecond Amanda thinks she can see through the armor. Olivia's hands come to rest clasped in front of her abdomen.

"Honestly? No. What was I thinking?"

Amanda grins, "You were thinking with your heart instead of your head."

"I gave up on having any semblance of a normal life a long time ago."

"Do you have any doubt that you want these babies?"

"Not for a second."

"You are under no obligation to stay chained to this desk. You are an amazing Captain, and I would be devastated to see you go. At the same time I would be equally as devastated if you stayed here out of whatever sense of obligation that you have, and miss out on all of the incredible moments in your future that come with this opportunity."


	8. Chapter 8

Olivia is sitting on a barstool at her kitchen counter clacking away on the keyboard of her laptop. She stares at a bottle of wine that peers down at her from a cabinet. She exhales, and shifts her focus to the screen in front of her. Knuckles wrapping against her door startle her. She glances at her watch. It is nearly 11 o'clock. She is contemplating reaching for her firearm when a voice announces its presence.

"It's me, Liv," a gravel-y voice announces from the other side of the door.

Olivia vacates her seat, and crosses the room. She carefully unlocks the door, and pulls it open. Fin closes the door behind himself. He hands her a box full of take out.

"I didn't know that you were coming."

"I hope I'm not imposing."

"Not at all. I am just trying to fill out some department paperwork for my leave of absence."

"You seem disappointed that I interrupted," he jests.

She places the bag of take out on the coffee table. She takes a seat on the couch.

"I was actually sitting there thinking about how badly I just want a glass of wine."

"I can understand that. I can offer food. I brought a variety of things. I didn't really know what you might feel up to eating. It was a last minute decision, so it's nothing fancy."

She opens the bag, and finds Chinese food inside. He smiles at her.

"I know what you're thinking. This is from the new Chinese place that opened up. They only use organic vegetables. There is no MSG, and they pride themselves on being non-GMO."

"At this point I am willing to eat anything that I am not going to become reacquainted with later."

Silence fills the room as they open the containers one at a time. Her mind wanders to the last thing she's eaten. Finally she determines at 2 PM lunch of barely buttered toast, and ginger ale.

"Should I have called first? I figured you would still be up."

"You know that I rarely sleep."

"I just wanted to check in on you. You haven't said much since your appointment a few days ago. I just figured I would give you a little time to let the shock wear off."

"I am just waiting to wake up, and find out this is nothing more than a dream."

He looks around as she begins to eat. Despite her grueling work hours she manages to keep her apartment tidy. He tries to re-arrange the layout in his mind, but finds it quite difficult.

"What are you thinking about, over there?"

"Where are you going to put two babies?" His lips pucker.

She grins, "I have a drawer in the kitchen cleaned out for them."

He rolls his eyes, "This is not _Little House on the Prairie_."

Her hair is secured in a haphazard pony-tale. Her glasses are on her face, and she looks as weary as he has ever seen her. She has changed out of her work clothes into something more comfortable. She wears a pair of pajama bottoms, and a t-shirt that accentuates her growing belly.

"They fit in here, certainly they'll fit in a drawer to start with," she quips.

"Why do I get the sense that you are in crisis mode?"

"I am a woman of a certain age. I should be considering retirement. Here I am over here thinking about bringing two new lives into the world. What the hell is wrong with me? When I thought that it was just one baby I figured that I could just put the crib in my room at least initially. I thought that I had time to figure this out. All of this is just happening so fast. I don't have the first thing ready for them. I just feel like I am running out of time. I mean, what are the odds that I make it anywhere near term?"

"Slow down. You're catastrophizing," he calls her on her bullshit.

"Obviously!"

"Are you opposed to living somewhere that someone has been murdered, or died by suicide?"

She furrows her brow, "I suppose it would depend on the circumstances. Why are you asking?"

"I have some good friends that specialize in crime scene clean up. One of them was talking about how people are still not as willing to live in those places, which is crazy to me."

"I thought that as cutthroat as the market is right now that people would be willing to live anywhere."

"It depends on the circumstances, and the neighborhood. I mean some of these places aren't even fit to be a trap house, but there are some nice places."

She falls silent. He sits in the chair next to her, and watches her as her brain spins in circles. She eats her soup, and reflects on what he has said. As his eyes drift to her midsection he feels hopeful. His mind wanders back to the day that she asked him.

* * *

_It's nearly 1 AM, and the squad room is nearly dead. Fans whir overhead, and the coffeepot percolates another pot. As he stands in front of the coffeemaker he notices Olivia out of the corner of his eye. They are the only two left. They have had a string of difficult cases lately. She seems unusually quiet, even for her. He pours a couple cups, and pulls a chair to the end of her desk. He offers her a cup._

"_Thought you might want a cup."_

"_Thanks, Fin."_

"_I know that it's none of my business, but you've been too quiet lately. Are you okay?"_

_She shakes her head. She turns towards him as she sips her cup of coffee. She contemplates lying to him. She is reminded that she is talking to a friend, and that she doesn't have to have her guard up all of the time._

"_I've been struggling lately. Sometimes I wonder if this is all worth it."_

"_I hear you," he empathizes._

"_I just think that sometimes it would be nice to…" she trails off._

"_To what?"_

"_Have some semblance of a normal life."_

"_In what way? I hate to tell you this, but you're not normal."_

"_I know that, but it doesn't stop me from wishing that some parts of my life were."_

_He nods, "Okay. If you could have any normal thing, what would it be?"_

"_A baby. I've always wanted to be a mom."_

"_Then do it," Fin suggests._

"_It isn't that simple. I am not anyone's ideal candidate to become an adoptive parent. I suppose that I could do artificial insemination, or IVF, or something like that, but…"_

_He cuts her off, "If it is something that you really want you are going to find a way."_

"_Full disclosure, I've actually been looking into the process."_

"_And?"_

"_I just can't wrap my head around having some stranger's baby. We both know that genetics is not the end all be all, but it is terrifying. What is the screening process for these donors?"_

"_That is what is holding you up?! Just use a donor you know."  
_

_"That's a pretty awkward conversation, don't you think?"_

"_Maybe," he shrugs._

"_What about you, would you consider being a donor?"_

"_I have no problem with it. Just tell me where I need to go to make a deposit."_

_She waits for the punchline._

"_Liv, I'm serious. If it means that much to you, I'm happy to volunteer."_


	9. Chapter 9

Olivia finds herself sitting in the comfort of her own apartment, with an old friend, and trusted colleague. Time has etched his face with some wrinkles, and furrows. She knows that like her, the job has hardened him. As he sits next to her she sees something in his hazel eyes that has been absent, or at least dimmed recently. Fin stares back at her, taking it all in. As the smile crawls across his face he knows that he must look like a damn fool. She sees a flicker of hope as he glances at her midsection. As his glance shifts he locks eyes with her. He searches her face for answers, as per usual she sits before him stoically, offering no insight.

"I think that we have known each other long enough for you to simply ask whatever it is that is on your mind," she points out to him.

"Why did you ask me? Was it simply out of desperation?"

She furrows her brow, "Are you kidding me?"

"I am just asking the question. You had plenty of choices. What was I, third, fourth choice?"

She shakes her head in disbelief, "I didn't realize that your ego was so fragile."

"I am just trying to understand, that is all."

"I didn't ask anyone else. It never even crossed my mind."

"You're kidding me, right?"

"I have no reason to be dishonest with you. I have nothing to lose here, Fin. I didn't ask anyone else."

"What about your partner, or…"

"I only asked you."

"That doesn't make sense to me," Fin admits.

"It doesn't make sense that I would ask someone who has proven to be loyal, and trustworthy? Why wouldn't I choose someone that I trusted?"

He hangs his head, "I'm sorry. I sound like a fool."

"I get it. It is a totally valid question."

"I shouldn't be throwing all of this at you. You have enough on your plate already. Let's talk about something else."

"What do you suggest?"

"Amanda confronted me. She asked if I knew that there was something going on with you."

"What did you tell her?"

"Nothing. I just gave her a look, and she decided not to press her luck."

"I have been trying to come up with something appropriate to say to make an official announcement. It all just seems so strange. Of course it all seems quite emotionally taxing as well."

"What if you don't make an announcement?"

She furrows her brow, "People are going to notice. Some of them already have."

"Then let them notice. Stop trying to hide it. Allow people to jump to their own conclusions. They will anyway. You are not a sixteen year old girl. It is not as if you have something to be ashamed of here. This is a blessing. Put your paperwork to bed, and then embrace it. Handle it with the same level of professionalism, and grace that you do being Captain."

"I have been known to fumble the play."

He grins, "I've got your back. Don't worry about it."

"You always have my back. Let's just hope that continues when it is the size of Great Wall."

He smirks, "I should get going. I've taken up enough of your time."

She laughs, "Yes, as if I would actually be doing anything meaningful with it. It's not as if I am getting much sleep these days."

"Have you tried whale noises?"

She stares at her long-time colleague as if he has three heads. Her eyes burrow into him. "I thought that I heard you say whale noises."

"Correct. Listening to them, not making them," he clarifies.

"I assumed. How will that help anything?"

He shrugs, "Old wives tale that my grandmother used to talk about. I've never actually tested it out. I just know that she used to say a lot of crazy ass stuff, but a lot of it was dead on. I remember one time I was sick, and she gave me a cup of hot water, vinegar, and honey. It was the worst thing I have ever tasted in my life. The next day I wasn't sick."

"At this point I'll try just about anything."

Sunday morning, Olivia stands in front of her mirror feeling particularly exasperated. In an attempt to have some sense of control of her life she attempts to sort out wardrobe for the week ahead. Before she removes the pair of black slacks from her closet she knows the end result. She pulls the neatly pressed pants on, and zips them. She prays that since these pants have a button instead of a clasp there is a minute chance they may be appropriate. The button does refuses to go anywhere near the button hole.

She exhales in frustration as she tosses them onto her bed. She pulls on a pair of sweatpants, and angrily exits her room. She finds her son sitting at the kitchen counter eating a bowl of Frosted Flakes. He looks up from his comic book. He smiles at her.

"I think Hobbs is finally coming to life. I heard some growling."

She smiles and kisses his forehead, "Really?!"

"Or maybe it was just you. I see you're rocking sweatpants this morning. The ones you usually wear to clean the toilet," his observational skills never cease to amaze.

"We are going to have to make a change in our plans today."

"You have changed our plans a thousand times. You can't do it again. You promised that you would take me to the arcade."

"What if I find a replacement that is even more exciting than myself?"

"They better be grrr-eat."


	10. Chapter 10

Hours later she has fallen asleep on the couch after a highly depressing shopping trip. Someone knocking on the door jolts her back into reality. She wipes the drool from her face as she vacates her seat on the couch. She opens the door, and finds her son holding a gigantic stuffed lizard while grinning from ear to ear.

"Wow! It looks like you had a great time."

"It was the best. Fin took me to an old school arcade. We had such a good time. We won so many tickets that I got this crazy big lizard. He let me have root beer, and cotton candy. Best day ever!" He races past her towards his room.

She motions for Fin to follow the young lad into the apartment. She shoots him a look.

"Here I thought that I could count on you to be bad cop."

He grins like a schoolboy, "We really did have a great time. I taught him how to play skee ball. He legitimately beat me at pool, which tells me that you have taught him how to hustle people. I am happy to see that you are teaching the boy some valuable skills. I know that you said not to give him too much sugar, but he had to have something to balance out the huge ass pizza we ate."

"I am going to kill you," she shoots daggers at him with her eyes.

He chuckles, "For what? Sugaring your son up? Or for your pants not fitting?"

She shrugs, "At this point, I'm not sure I need much provocation."

"How was your adventure?"

"Far from exciting. Everything was overpriced. Nothing fit the way that I wanted it to. I flashed back to being teenager trying on clothes. It was horrible."

"How was your nap? It looks like some of your hair is still stuck to your face."

She scowls, as she pushes the strands of hair from her cheek, "It was the only thing that salvaged the day."

"I have an important announcement to make," he jests.

"You're too old to hang out with an eight year old all afternoon?"

"I can no longer beat the high score at pinball."

"I didn't know that was a special skill of yours," she admits.

"I was pretty disappointed. Noah even noticed. I'll tell you though, that is one fine man that you're raising there. He saw how bummed out I was, and he bought me a pack of Twizzlers for my sorrows."

"Thanks for taking him. You have no idea how much I appreciate it."

"I don't mind at all. I know that it isn't typically my thing, but it really did take me back. For a second I almost felt like a young buck. You know, until I strained my shoulder playing skee ball."

She can't help but laugh at him, "Did you let him win?"

"Nah. I crushed him, but he totally thought it was hysterical. On another note don't be too harsh on him if he is practicing his trash talk."

"Fin! We don't trash talk."

"I talked to him about the appropriate time to trash talk someone. I am going to go out on a limb here, because I have a feeling that the next time the two of you play battleship there is going to be some healthy conversation."

"He beats me every single time."

"You let an eight year old beat you at battleship? That is pathetic. Do you let him win?"

"Hardly. He takes it so seriously. He sets up a perimeter around his board with folders so that I can't see the location of his ships."

"He's probably just moving them partway through the game. That is what I would do. On that note, I should really get going. I know you probably have to iron a crease in your pants, or something."

"Promise me you won't judge me if I show up in sweatpants tomorrow."

"I keep a pair in my locker in case of emergency. Text me on your way in tomorrow, and I'll back you up. I'll make up some time honored NYPD tradition no one has ever heard of, and just roll with it. You know, some OG shit."

Olivia feels like a teenaged girl on her first day of high school as she enters the precinct. Her precinct. She does her best to shove the she apprehension away. The movement from inside her abdominal region does nothing to mollify her anxiety. The heel of her boot clicks against the tile floor as she practically sprints to her office.

Inside the hallowed walls of her office she sheds her jacket. Hidden safely behind a layer of blinds she digs deep for the courage to face her squad. Her soul searching is rudely interrupted by a knock on her door.

"I'm on my way out."

"Aye, aye, Captain," a familiar voice responds from the other side.

She throws caution to the wind as she pulls her door open. Within a few seconds she is standing at the end of Fin's desk. He looks up at her, and grins. She wears a pair of charcoal slacks, and a long sleeved navy blue blouse that is not loose enough to conceal her condition. He offers her stack of files.

"Nice look, Captain."


	11. Chapter 11

Sunlight streams into the room as Olivia lies in her bed, unmoved. A hand nudges her from the edge of the bed.

"Are you ever going to get up, mom?"

Olivia grumbles as she glances at the clock, "It is Saturday, why are you up at seven AM?"

Noah shrugs, as he climbs into the bed next to her. "I've got too much on my mind to sleep."

Olivia leans against the headboard as she furrows her brow, "What are your concerns son?"

"How much longer are those things going to stay in there? I just want to squeeze them."

Olivia grins, "Several more weeks, hopefully. You can touch them now."

His hand presses against her shirt. "What am I touching?"

"Someone's butt."

"Eew! I don't want to touch anyone's butt!"

Olivia moves his hand to another lump, "How about a head?"

"How many weeks is several weeks? I am not sure my patience will wait that long."

"They are scheduled to stay in for about five more weeks, though they may come a bit earlier."

"I have been thinking a lot about the new house."

"Oh, yeah?"

"You're going to need a lot of help with the babies."

"That is probably accurate."

"I talked to Fin about the matter. He should move in with us."

"When did you talk to him about moving in with us?"

"I sneakily hijacked your phone yesterday when you were in the shower."

"Noah!"

"I am sorry, but I had to take matters into my own hands."

"That is not acceptable."

"Is he the dad?"

Olivia falls utterly silent as her eyes widen.

Noah continues undeterred by Olivia's facial expression, "I only ask because he has been spending a lot of time around here since your belly exploded. I think he is in love with you. You should really try harder not to be so grumpy with him. He's a nice guy."

"Noah! Stop!"

"You should take him on a date."

"What has gotten into you?" She raises her voice.

"I can see that I've made you uncomfortable. Perhaps something I've said has struck a chord with you?"

Her arm extends, and her finger wags, "Out!"

He jumps off the bed, and races out of the room. "Can I have another bowl of cereal?" He hollers from the kitchen.

"How many have you already had?"

"Three. I've been awake for an hour."

"No. Three bowls of cereal is plenty."

"Can I watch cartoons?"

"Yes."

Olivia's phone begins vibrating just when she is certain that her head will explode. She presses the phone to her ear.

"Benson," she answers in a tone that indicate she's peeved.

"What has your shorts in a twist?" Fin queries.

"My son came in here moments ago talking a mile a minute, likely hyped up on sugary cereal, asking me who the babies dad is. He suggested you. Apparently he is trying to convince you to move in with us."

"Please take a breath."

* * *

Hours later her anxiety has settled across town in her newly purchased home. Her son sleeps in a carbohydrate induced coma on the only piece of furniture available, the couch. The rhythmic noise of the paint roller in her hand brings her comfort. Her hair is barely secured in a haphazardly applied bun. It is nearly midnight and she wears a white t-shirt beneath a pair of overalls. Her heavily pregnant belly sticks out like a sore thumb. Gently tapping against the frame of the door shifts her focus from the task at hand. She turns, and finds her long-time colleague.

"I thought you left," she admits.

He offers a pained expression, "I was halfway home when I turned around."

She gently places the roller in the paint tray, and takes a seat on the nearby ladder.

"Did you forget something?"

"That it is better to state your case than spend a life full of regret because of your silence."

She furrows her brow, as she wipes paint from her hands on a towel. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't want to go home. As much as I don't want to make you uncomfortable that is the truth."

"Why wouldn't you just say that?"

"I am afraid we aren't on the same page, because we always just dance around things."

"Say your piece."

"Your son is right, you know. I have tried to ignore it. The more I try to shove the feelings aside the more they seem to bubble to the top."

"I see."

"Maybe you were wrong to choose me for this task, Liv. I am not the right character for the job. I have always tried to maintain our professional relationship. The truth of the matter is that seeing you in full bloom, knowing that I am in part genetically responsible for the lives you are carrying, only solidifies the fact that my desires have nothing to do with professionalism. I feel like a horrible human being because I just selfishly keep showing up. It seems like I am completely disrespecting what you originally set out to do."

"Say what you need to say."

"I love you, and as more than a colleague."

She falls silent, and her facial expression protectively shifts into neutral gear. Her hand presses against the well-stretched skin of her abdomen. Her hand shifts from her abdomen to her lower back as her facial expression contorts in pain.

"Now is not the time," she insists.

His heart sinks, "I'll go."

"No! You can't go. That isn't what I meant. Fin I wasn't talking to you."

He furrows his brow, "I don't see anyone else."

Her eyes cast in a downward direction, "I was talking to them. I think I'm in labor."

"What an inconvenient time for them to decide to enter the world."

"Beyond. The painting is not finished. The only piece of furniture in the entire place is a couch. I want to finish the conversation you started."

"Liv how long do you think you've been having contractions?"

"Since after lunch when I lied to you, and said that I just thought I was having indigestion from the pizza."

"Eight hours ago? I hope they aren't nearly as stubborn as you are. Luckily for you we did manage to get your bag in my car. Do you need assistance getting to the car?"

"Just get Noah."

"Yes, boss."

Liv has disappeared out the door as Fin is nudging Noah into consciousness.

"Wake up, Noah. It's go time."

His eyes pop open, and he hops off the couch, "Baby time? I'm ready."


	12. Chapter 12

He sits on the edge of the vinyl coated hospital chair gazing at the love of his life. Noah sits on his lap, and the two men find themselves mesmerized by the leading lady in their life. Olivia lies in the hospital bed sans make-up, and drenched in several bodily fluids. Her eyes are heavy with exhaustion, but they are aglow, and her smile lights the room as she fixates on two brand new daughter's resting in her arms. Two perfectly healthy five pound baby girls sleep in her arms. Her glance shifts to the two men in her life.

"It is pretty rude that I did all of the hard work on this one, and the two of them come out looking like the female version of you," she glowers as her eyes lock on Fin.

"I think we both know that they were either going to end up with my looks or my attitude, and we don't need anymore Odafin Tutuola attitude in this city."

"The sun is going to be coming up soon, isn't it?" Noah points out.

Their eyes shift towards the floor to ceiling windows. Fin offers a subtle nod.

"You want me to call your aunt 'Manda so you can head home, and catch some z's?"

"I can sleep here. I don't want to leave."

"Are you sure? It will be pretty boring around here until they discharge us," Olivia points out.

"Boring? I don't want to miss anything. It hasn't been boring so far. You guys called the chaplain, and got married. Then all of a sudden these two rascals popped out. I'm just waiting to see what happens next."

The pair of babies Olivia is clinging to begin rooting around. Fin can't help but be completely enamored with the inhabitants of the room.

"My guess is that the two guys in here find ourselves some refreshments so your mama can do some more work."

Noah hops out of his seat, and moves towards the bed. He gently pats Olivia's arm.

"Mom will you be okay, if we go foraging for food?"

She chuckles, "I've got it covered, son."

"Can we bring you back anything? A doughnut, or some coffee?"

"That is very sweet, Noah, but I'm okay."

"Okay," he nods understandingly. He turns towards Fin with a grin on his face, "Pops, do you think as a big brother it might be okay for me to celebrate with some orange soda?"

Fin smiles widely, "Man, you lay it on thick."

"That is not a yes, or a no," Noah points out.

"Why don't we scoot, and we can have that discussion on our way to the cafeteria?"

* * *

2 days later he exits the master bathroom, and finds his superior officer, and current wife sitting on the edge of their bed in her bathrobe.

"What are you doing?" He queries as each of her hands rests on the edge of a bassinet.

"Just watching them."

"Olivia, they are sound asleep. They aren't going to go anywhere."

"Noah was never this little."

"Liv, you are turning into a basket case. Go take a shower."

She furrows her brow, and chucks a pillow at him. "Are you saying that I stink?"

"The last conversation we had before I went to take a shower was that you were going to put Noah to bed, and that you wanted to take a shower when I got done."

"Oh, right."

"I want to point out that I can't keep people away for another day. They've seen you recuperate quicker from gunshot wounds. They aren't buying my story."

"Whatever made us allow so much time escape?"

"I am a hard-headed fool, and you… are my wife so I am not about to start a fight."

"Your phone was blowing up while you were in the bathroom."

"Who was it?"

"Your son. I am going to take a quick shower, because he will be here shortly."

His lips pucker as his brow draws in confusion, "Why?"

"I told him he could stop by."

"It's…"

She cuts him off, "Slow down there, old man. It is ten minutes after nine. It just seems late because you haven't slept more than an hour or two in days."

"I slept when we got home," he argues.

Her brow arches as she tosses a skeptical look in his direction, "So that's why you were hovering over them when I woke up?"

"Can we talk about something else?"

"What about me son deciding that he can call you whatever he wants, and just committing to it?"

"He takes after his mama. You should get in the shower if we are having company."

"I'm pretty ripe, aren't I?"

"I plead the fifth."

Olivia has managed to scrub layers of bodily fluid off of her. By the time Ken is at the door she has donned a pair of navy colored silk pajamas. Fin is upstairs hovering over at least one of the children when Ken knocks. Olivia pulls open the door, and greets him with a smile.

"Come in."

He gently hugs her, and hands her a gift. "I should have known that someone who regularly gets involved in hostage situations would like a movie star right after giving birth."

She rolls her eyes, "That is the biggest lie I've heard all day."

He grins, "Seriously you look great."

"So did you come to see your dad, or are you just here for the baby snuggles?"

"I assume that they are sleeping. I wouldn't want to disturb them."

Fin enters the living room that has yet to be unpacked.

"Your message said that I should come over because you needed to talk to me. Is everything okay?" Ken questions.

"I do?" He furrows his brow glaring at Olivia.

She perches herself on the arm of the couch, and jabs him with her elbow, "Yes, you do. Tomorrow before we have a house full of people."

"Are you okay?" Ken repeats.

Fin exhales, "In craziness of the past few days I guess I haven't communicated with you much."

"Communicating with me has never been your strongest suit, dad. I did get the text that Liv had the babies."

"So… you see…" Fin starts to stammer.

"Ken you have to excuse him he hasn't had much sleep in the past couple of days."

"You might need to help him out," Ken points out, as Fin stares at his eldest son like a deer in the headlights.

"Many years ago, before Noah was ever a twinkle in my eye I looked into fertility treatment. I went as far as finding a donor, and having eggs retrieved. In all honesty I wouldn't have made it that far without your dad. I told him I didn't want to use some random stranger as my donor…"

Fin pulls his phone out of his pocket, and hands it to Ken. Ken stares at the image of the two newborn babies. He smiles widely.

"Those poor girls, they have the same mugs as this fool," Ken points to Fin.

"So that is that."

Ken furrows his brow, "What about the part where she has your babies, but you've always been in love with her, but just too damn stubborn to admit it?"

Fin looks at Liv, and then at his son. He shakes his head. "This was a set up. You already talked to him? That is stone cold."

"When were you planning on telling me that you got hitched?" Ken quizzes.

"Do you want to go see the babies, or not?"

"What are their names?" Ken wonders.

"They remain nameless," Olivia groans.

"Dad, just let her name them whatever she wants."

"I told her to. She insists nothing fits."


End file.
